Whispers in the Dark
by Phantom-Griffin
Summary: Life isn't so silent for a telepath, nor is the path of life easy and smooth. But then, when is it for any feline? Maybe a little TLC is just what Narcian needs.
1. Prologue

_Authors Note: Okay, so this is another CATS based story. This is Narcian, an OC of mine. Its mostly centered around OC's but the cannon characters run throughout too so don't worry; you'll still see Misto and the others, as well as appearances of Yankeedoo, Scarlet and other OC's of mine and co-authors Jingalizzy and Cherry. Whom both helped with this story so thans to you both!!_

_Narcian, Asmo, Scarlet belong to me.  
Gabriel and Ofelia belong to Cherry.  
Angra, Yankeedoo, Bellzebub, Rosco belong to Jingalizzy  
All Cannon belong to T.S. Elliot and Webber._

* * *

"C'mon, hurry up!" A gruff voice said over mewling cries. For every step of the large paws, three were taken by little ones.  
The group of kittens were jostled forward, crying and wide eyed as they searched for parents, aunts or uncles, someone to tell them it was all a bad dream. They clung to each other, terrified as they came to a feline sitting upon a large chair created from crates.

The moonlight glittered across ginger fur and made horrifying yellow eyes glow. Fifteen kits trembled under his gaze, huddling together. With a gesture of his claw, a small siamese tomkit was wrenched from the group and brought forward. After a quick look, the trembling kitten was picked up and carried away. He was replaced by a scrawny manx. He was carried in a different direction with hardly a second glance. The ginger looked over the group with cold, calculating eyes. Eyes that paused on a tiny, thin yellow and white kit that stood just a little apart from the quivering kittens.

"Bring the runt here," he tapped his long twisted claws on the arm of his chair idly. A large patched tom pulled the smallest kitten towards their leader and backed away quickly as if Macavity would strike him down as well.  
"You!" The dark ginger said commandingly to the tan and yellow kit. "You are the smallest of the small, useless." He steepled his long fingers and pressed them thoughtfully to his mouth. "Your size shows a failure of my own cats to prosper. Plead your case runt!"

"I...I..." He stuttered voice thin with fright and eyes wide. His tiny paws shook uncontrollably as he gripped his tail.

"Speak!" Macavity roared impatiently. The tomkit squeaked and shrank smaller still in fright. His tiny frame shook like a lead as he suddenly swayed, as if faint. The Hidden Paw sneered in disgust and lifted his paw. "Take the thing away." He spat.

A cornish Rex stepped forward quickly but the kit stumbled forward, latching onto Macavity's paw. Everything stopped. Even the kittens fell silent as the henchcats held their breath. A tiny voice spoke, breaking the silence.

"No...No sun...Darkness in day..." His eyes were wide and glossy white, his body shaking so hard it was a wonder he could hold onto the ginger. Then everything exploded with an enraged snarl as Macavity brought his claws down on the kit. The blow was hard enough to spin the little tom around and knock him unconcious, blood seeping from thin streaks that stretched across the side of his face. The Rex quickly leapt forward, snatching him up.

"Get it out of my sight!" Macavity growled. The Rex bowed his head and quickly disappeared after the manx.

* * *

Eight of the fifteen kittens huddled together in a small room. They had fallen into a tired silence, their voices spent. The ninth sat curled in a corner, the wounds cleansed and bleeding stopped. The Rex hadn't spoken, but the voice was kind as he had cleaned the 'shallow wounds'

There was one thin window where the morning sun smiled through. The little kit hugged his knee's close, eyes red but he was too exhausted to cry, yet too terrified to sleep.  
The light began to dim and the kits trembled, but then, one by one they looked up and out the window. Still the male did not move. Gasps and whisperes echoed across the room. Then...Darkness fell.

"No sun..." Came one voice.

"It's dark...dark during day!" Another whispered shakily.

"You knew..." The manx was looking at the runt, eyes wide. "You knew!"

Suddenly the door burst open, sending all the kittens scrambling with cries to the far corner; cluthing each other tight.

"Runt! With me," a large menacing persian stoon in the doorway, nearly blocking the whole entrance with his sheer size.

The wounded kitten stood, though he kept his head down, afraid of being struck again. On the walk down the sunless halls the kit focused on keeping space between himself and the huge persian as well as the wall. Though the henchtom's size made this a very difficult task.

"Bring him in." The too familiar tone of their Lord's voice was altered, not quite anxious but not angry. 'That's a good sign...' the kit hoped.  
"Good work runt," their Lord stated in almost a monotone with a sardonic edge. "How did you know?" When the ginger tom finally faced them, his yellow eyes were the fiercness they had all come to expect. Behind that, however, he had a spark of what could only be described as wonder, even mirth.

"I..." For a moment he was speechless, quivering as he remembered the blow. The voice he heard twisted around his head, sending shivers down his spine as it tried to figure the little tomkit out.

The ginger tom was suddenly upon him but before the tiny kit could even flinch he was sittign along with the Hidden Paw on his large comfortable make-shift throne. "How did you know?" He asked, almost a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth as he waited for the kitten's answer.

"I...I see things," he squeaked, eyes wide with a mix of surprise and fear. He held his tail in a death-grip. "Things...Things that happen. And...and hear..." His voice quivered and his ears twitched madly.

"Interesting..." Macavity ruffled the young tom's headfur and his mind raced on, silent to the young telepath. "So could you tell future thigns that affect my tribe? That could help me in battle?"

He nodded hesitantly. "Will...will you not send me back to that room?" He pleaded quietly, kitten eyes wide as he looked up at The Hidden Paw. "The room...the room where death waits?" He wrung his tail with shaking paws.

Macavity ruffled the kits headfur again and shook his head, "No no no! Of course not. You are stayign right here with me" He tapped his long claws on the arm of the chair, "What is your name runt?"

He let out a small breath, shoulders relaxing just slightly. "N...Narcian..." He said quietly.


	2. My Reality, My Curse

_Authors Note: Thus begins the story. But I do want to add a warning to the story: If you don't like slash, please do not read. I do ask to give it a chance, but keep unsavory comments to yourself please. For slash will become aparent later on in chapters. I just warn now. Also I feel I should explain just a little: This chapter is solely for showing Narcian's personality and the awakening of a being inside him. It does get better after this, a bit more...happy in a way I guess you should say. _

_Now, with all that said, on with the story and I hope you enjoy!! _

* * *

A sliver of warm buttery sun painted a small yellow rectangle on the floor. A patch of warmth on the cold, cracked concrete. Strewn across the grey were pieces of paper with shapes and swirls. Some pictures recognizable and some possible only the artist could decifer.

He sat in a corner, the ray of light touching just to his left side. The pencil he held made faint scritching noises as the tip glided across the paper he held on his lap; a broken piece of wood his only table. The room was otherwise peaceful, but to Narcian, there was no such silence.

With each step of a feline in the hal, with every breath, whispers were sent swirling in the air. Words that only the owner of the voice heard, at least, that was the reality they lived. Narcian knew how wrong they were, privacy of the mind did not exist to him. Some would say it was a gift but he knew it was a curse.

Narcian is a telepath.

Sighing he looked up and out the window, ears laid back against his skull. As if it might block out the voices that were constantly barraging his head. For a brief second, he watched a swallow fly by. For that brief moment, he hoped, wished. But it was quickly gone. This was his life, his home, his reality. It wouldn't change.

Curling up on his bed he clamped his paws over his ears. Trying to block out the whispers, the voices. But to no avail. Always the thoughts wormed their way into his ears. No barrier could stop it. Every cat who passed and for some distance, thoughts, emotions, words, images. All filtered into his head. It was so hard to ignore. His cell, or 'room' was dark and dreary. Just like the rest of the place. But even what was supposed to be his sanctuary wasn't a blissful silence.

A knock hit the door suddenly and the large white persian known as Angra Mignus was there. He was something of a relief to the telepath because he ws usually working battle plans in a soft whisper and usually at the back of his mind, "Boss says you need some exersize." He informed the magic tom and was soon opening his door and tapping a paw impatiently

Narcian's ears twitched ever so slightly as he slowly got to his paws and made his way to the door. The magical feline was an extreme contrast compared to the others working under the Hidden Paw. He was thin, small, ears, tail and eyes always down. He almost seemed lifeless half the time, just a drone. Of course, he wasn't there for any muscle or fighting reasons. He was there because his visions and ability to read and hear minds made him an important cat to keep around. Though it wasn't a 'gift' as most said in his eyes. A curse that he wished to be rid of. He followed the big Persian. Trying everything to keep himself distracted from the quiet whispers. Keeping himself from delving further into Angra's head.

The Persian led him around the complex the long way, avoiding the lunch rush whether it was for his benefit or Narcian's it was unclear. They finally made it to the running tracks, which were rather iolated and were used mostly to punish recruits. "Ten laps then we can eat so hurry up"

Narcian may not be able to block other thoughts from his head, but he was very good at zoning out his own needs. Silently he nodded and began the laps. After one or two laps, his eyes half closed. All he heard were the thuds his paws made on the floor and the faint whispers from silent persian. But he felt nothing. He didn't waken from this type of daze until his laps were finished. Just a little out of breath he stopped in front of Angra and waited obediantly.

Angra nodded in silent approval, "One more and I'll bring your food." He vanished and the last of the voices with him. There was a wonderful two minutes of silence before the persian returned with two plates of burnt cod and some ruined sushi both stolen from the markets throw-aways.

Once Angra had left the room Narcain sighed, shoulders relaxing. Blissful silence. But of course, it was over far to quickly. Narcian had completed the final lap and was sitting crosslegged, back against the wall and eyes closed. Like always he heard the thoughts before he saw Angra. Opening his eyes he stood and waited. He was never one of many words.

Angra shoved the plate into the telepaths paws and sighed, plopping down hard onto the gorund and eating his food in huge bites. The persian was near silence as it were, no wars were raging so even the tactical planning was at a minimum today. A tiny hummed song took it's place, nothing specific and quite tuneless but it was a pleasant replacement to the constant noise.

Narcian leaned against the wall and slid down to sit again, sighing ever so quietly. Ears twitched and eyes closed as the humming replaced the words. He ate slower than the persian, but not slow enough to be told to hurry up. His tail curled up around his waste.

The Persian reached over and snagged the telepat's last bit of sushi and popped it into his mouth, the humming growing louder as if it were covering up over thoughts, thoughts the persian would rather the telepath not hear.

Narcian set the plate down and rested his head back against the wall. The humming was a bit odd, he wouldn't deny it. A select few knew about his telepathic ability, it wasn't uncommon to hear something strange to cover up the actual thought process. Though the humming was a little different, it was better than words.

The persian ruffled the tom's headfur and jerked a thumb to the track, "Four more laps." HE said in a gruff tone. He hummed loudly again but under it he licked his lips 'damn he looks good when he runs...'

Narcian winced slightly at the touch. That was something that was new...But it also made the humming louder for a moment. Standing he stretched before running. Kicking up the speed a couple notches these few laps, actually running instead of casually jogging.

The persian dropped the humming accidentally just long enough for Narcian to hear his mental wolf-whistle. Angra then returned to cleaning every crumb off the plates.

He stumbled a second, slowing and shaking his head. Blinking rapidly he stopped and looked around. Angra...No, that persian? Had to have been someone nearby...Or his imagination....Luckily he was on his final lap. Finishing he stopped. Uneasily waiting. He wanted to get back to his 'room'. Away from everyone.

The persian was busy starign at patterns he had finger-drawn in the dirt. They looked like plays for the annual rugby game. Damn Angra must be bored.

Narcian tilted his head slightly and blinked. No, couldn't have been Angra. After standing quietly for a little while he spoke for the first time that day. "Is there anything else that I need to complete?" He asked, voice soft and smooth, despite not being used for days on end.

The persian ignored him for a moment until his eyes lifted from his scribblings and he seemed to look over the telepath a bit too slowly before meeting his eyes, the tiny mental whistle sounding again.

Narcian took a surprised and automatic step back, eyes wide. Angra...was....He shook his head. It was difficult to wrap his mind around that fact. Angra had always seemed attracted to queens. Or, at least that was the thought Narcian had. It seemed he was wrong, quite wrong. He shifted his weight uneasily.

Angra brushed the scribbles from the dirt and stood, brushign off his tail and butt. "Two more then we move to pull up and then a nap I think..." The sun was coming in hotly from the few dust coveed windows and even a kitten on sugar would pass out in.

Narcian nodded, still baffled as he turned to continue the laps. He finished the two laps quickly, just wanting to be away from the persian and sort through his own thoughts. Stopping, just a little bit further away this time, he waited to be told what was next.

"20 pullups before you get a break. I have to check the recruits and I'll be back in half an hour." The Persian ruffled out his headfur. "If you finish the pullups do laps until I return.

Despite his thin form, Narcian seemed to do pull-ups allright. Though he preferred running, his leg strength was stronger. Near the end of the pull ups he was out of breath and finding it harder to ignore his sore arms. It was a dull nag in the back of his brain when he finally stopped and headed to start running again since Angra hadn't returned.

It was two hours after the promised time when Angra finally returned. He had the evening meal an hour early and sat down at his usual place to wait. "You can be done for the day. I brought dinner"

Narcian stumbled over to where he had sat down before and leaned against the wall exhausted. Though it hardly showed on his face. What he had heard before, the whistling, he had pushed from his mind as he had concentrated on his tasks. He nodded in gratitude for the food and ate, faster than before and finished quickly and leaned his head back against the wall, taking a deep breath and exhaling softly.

Angra didn't offer an explaination to why he was gone for so long but the two and a half full hours of silence seemed to be a gift from the persian

Narcian sat quietly, waiting. If they were done why wasn't he being led back to his room yet? His tail once again curled around his waste and rested on his lap. Where he absently slowly ran his fingers through the yellow and white fur. His ears relaxed slightly, thanking bast for the silence once more. Closing his eyes his drifted into a light sleep.

Angra scooped up the tom and carried him to his room. Narcian's ears twitched madly as Angra picked him up. He clenched his paws over his ears, waking up quickly. The voice, even if it were just the humming, was so much louder. He sat him on his bed and left.

A shiver ran through him before he was set down on his bed. Shaking his head he sat up and rubbed his temples, trying to ease the migrane. "Physical contact," he muttered under his breath and sighed in aggrivation before lying back down.

* * *

Angra tapped softly on his door a few hours later, whent he entire lair was calm and asleep. Without a word the persian strode in and sat beside the thin tom.

Narcian's eyes snapped open when he felt the bed shift. Immediatly he was up and leaning back on his elbows, staring at Angra with wild, startled eyes. When he caught his breath after a moment, his expression became blank once more. "What is it? I have no visions for the master tonight."

Angra closed his eyes and tenderly pressed a finger to the telepath's forehead. The ounds instantly died and only an image of a smiling tiny queen appeared, "Tell me where she is."

Narcian looked confused. The location of a queen? He closed his eyes and thought back through the many visions he had had. None had that specific queen. "I do not know. Who is this little female?"

Angra didn't speak. The persian ust stared at him with meloncholy eyes as if the answer would surely only bring pain.

Narcian tilted his head, ears flicking back and forth. His eyes looked deeply into Angra's. "You care very much for this little one." He said softly. He could put two and two together. "I have not seen her in any of my visions or dreams if that is what you are wondering. She is safe for the time being."

Angra made to pat the telepath on the back but stopped short and returned his paws to his lap. "If you see her you will tell me." It wasn't a request or a question and the tone ensured that if Narcian went against this he would regret it.

Narcian winced as Angra's hand neared him, but relaxed when the persian stopped. His ears laid back even further than usual but he nodded. "I will," he said. Narcian hadn't survived thus long just because he was valuable. He hardly ever, if never, went against orders. From anyone.

Then, it hit like a brick. Narcian shook his head; tired, so tired. There was only one possible explanation, and he knew what it was. What if it was what Angra was looking for? "A..ngra..." He managed in a whispered exhale before he fell into the trance, paw lifted as if to touch the persians arm. His eyes glazed over, giving the normal gold a filmy white gloss.

Images faded in and out; past, present, future. It was hard to fit the puzzle together a lot of the time. But finally it settled. After four minutes he gasped and coughed, lungs filling with air, and his lifted paw went to his eyes. Blinking rapidly he collapsed onto his bed, paws shaking.

"I..I saw a harbor." He said once his breathing evened. "A green boat, rusted and unused. It appeared to have been such for quite some time. The only thing left of its name was a large letter R in white paint. The little queenkit you seek is there."

Angra listened intently but was gone before Narcian had finished speaking. He vanished down the hall. By sun up he was in the South Harbor scouting out every boat and deck for a large R and a lot of rust.

Narcian shook his head and rolled over onto his side, falling back into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

The next day he was sitting in a corner with some paper and a broken pencil. Sketches lined many of the pieces. Doodles, some of which seemed only the telepath could interpret.

There was a lot of mental sound as henchtoms rushed pass his room, muttering urgently outloud as well. Angra roared and clawed at a few of his better cadets. He couldn't stand to be touched and demanded from the nearest tom they retrieve Narcian and leave.

Narcian shuddered and clenched his ears as the sounds grew so loud. What had happened? Standing he waited, knowing he was going to be summoned. He went without a word or struggle and stood before Angra. He waited, listening to the thoughts around him. Wincing every now and then. "What need do you have of me?" His voice ever so soft.

The others left as they were ordered and soon the only sound was a desperate and tortured sound from the persian's mind. He was curled up in the far corner of the room, silent outwardly.

Narcian winced and brought a paw to his forhead, claws digging into his scalp slightly. There were no words in Angra's mind. None that he could make out for that matter. It was all emotion. Solid, waves of it. "Sir..." He croaked out, taking a slow, wobbily step forward. It was like walking against a strong current, each wave beating against his skull. A migrane was setting in from the overpowering emotions.

Angra was digging at the wall, his claws scoring up the age-weakened drywall and turning it to dust which gathered at his feet. There seemed to be a physical effort to calm his mind and the waves of emotions and endless incoherent chattering faded to a dull background noise in Narcians mind, "Help..."

With an exhausted sigh Narcian fell to his knee's, wincing still but thanking Bast that the emotions had dulled down. However he knew the struggle Angra must be having. But...help? What could he, the weakest of them all, a mere telepath do? "W..with what?" He asked softly, at a lost. He hadn't forseen any of this. He didn't know what had happened to the persian. And he didn't dare dig into Angra's mind.

Angra's thoughts gave a shudder that translated into a physical shiver to rocket down Narcian's spine. He was trying to focus his thoughts enough to speak to the telepath, speaking hurt far too much. "I've been poisoned..."

"P...Poisoned?" Narcian sat back on his heels, shaking his head as his spine continued to shiver, making his shoulds shake just a little. "I do not know...I can try to heal you, but I have no talents with poison." He replied nervously, worridly.

Angra agreed mentally but was hesitant. It won't kill me... though I wish it would... bast.... He snarled and curled into a tighter ball, panting raggedly.

Narcian tilted his head, eyes worried as he gently, hesitantly laid a hand on Angra's shoulder. Wincing as instantly the emotions grew louder, stronger with the touch. "Wont...kill you..." He thought trying to search through his own head to find what little he knew of poisons. There were those that paralyzed and those that killed almost instantly. Those were the only ones he knew. "What is it doing? Sir, I need to know if I can pinpoint it." He had healed many small minor wounds. But nothing from inside the body.

Angra's muscles vibrated with his efforts to keep as still as he could and to keep his thoughts as silent as he could. They seemed to fade to the background again even with Narcian's paw on his shoulder. I -need- was all the persian 'said' before as image or thought flashed through the telepath's mind. It was of the two of them in a rather compromizing, if not rather violent, position.

Narcian shut his eyes tight amd stumnled back, falling onto his ass with his left paw propping him up, the right still outstretched, but no longer touching Angra. His body shook as he stared at Angra with wide eyes. "I...I cannot..." He didn't know what to say. "Sir..."

Angra did not move an inch the violent shaking not withstanding. His claws dug deeper into the wall and he glared down at the small pile of dust forming below him.

"Sir...I do not know how to help you..." He couldn't. Not only was he unwilling, but he could not remove this poison. The only way that might help the persian would be to delve into his mind, and Narcian would not do that. It was something that would have to run itself out of his system. He stood slowly on shaky legs. "What...How were you poisoned?"

ambushed.. I awoke like this He ripped his claws from the wall and wrapped them around his stomch snarling and smashing his forehead to the ground.

Narcian slowly knelt once more and cautiously laid his paw on Angra's shoulder again. He did not want the persian, the only feline he knew besides their Lord, hurting himself. "Please...Is there anything...else I can do to help?" He shifted uneasily on his knee's, ears plastered back against his skull.

Angra was suddenly lifting his face from the dust. But it seemed as soon as his nose was off the floor he was on the telepath, his teeth nipping and trying to claim the skin at the other tom's neck as his paws held the smaller tom down.

Narcian let out a startled yowl as he was pinned. But it was short-lived as Angra nipped at his neck. His eyes clenched tightly shut as the physical contact made the telepathy stronger. "S-sir!" He stuttered, his paws uselessly tangling in the persian's mane. He was far smaller and weaker.

(Section was taken out due to adult content. If you wish for the full version, email me or send me a message. But remember it holds a warning. If you do not like slash, please do not ask for it.)

Angra collasped beside the small tom and panted raggedly, "I'm so sorry Narcian..." He groaned out, his eyes glazed as the last of the poison was torn from his mind.

Narcian was shaking uncontrollably. He wanted to move away from Angra, but he didn't think he could. He ached, his mind was still a hurricane and his body felt like it was on fire. All he could do was keep his eyes shut with pain as he tried to quiet the tumult within his skull and slowly, barely shake his head. Yet deep within the storm of his mind...was laughter.


	3. Unusual Visitors

"Narcian..." Angra stood, his legs just a little unsteady as the very last of the poison ran itself out. "I am so very sorry." He said again before quietly leaving his room and shutting the door.

Silent tears slid through Narcian's facial fur as he laid there, unmoving. When the door shut, there was a blessed quietness that followed. Slowly the storm in his mind began to settle. Stiffly, painfully, the telepath turned onto his side and curled up as much as his broken body would allow.

Finally, he fell into an exhausted, nightmare torn sleep.

* * *

When he finally awoke the next day, cold sweat slicked his headfur. The events of the night before still playing through his mind. Putting a paw to his forhead he attempted to sit up. The fiery pain had dulled, but it was still there. Wincing he leaned against the wall, letting his mind collect itself.

Then he noticed it. The room was different; no longer was he in Angra's room, nor was he in his own. It was completely different, yet similar to where he had lived before. One single window, blankets for his bed. His paper and pencil and wood. All were there, but the room was slightly larger, the patterns in the walls slightly different. And it was quiet...So very quiet.

The door suddenly opened and Angra looked inside for just a brief moment. The telepaths immediate reaction was fear as he tried to squeeze himself further into the wall. The Persian's eyes seemed to drop their harsh glow for just a moment, holding a small spark of repetence as he set a plate of food on the floor and shut the door.

The thoughts swirling around were apologetic but Narcian shuddered at the memories that were brought with the Persian. However he partially understood now why he had been moved to a different, more quiet location. Perhaps it was Angra trying to make it up to him, but it still didn't stop the cold shiver running along his spine.

_'Come now, it wasn't so horrible. I thought it was kind of fun.' _

Narcians ears twitched and he looked around. Where was that voice coming from? Was someone outside? But no...no one but Angra and their Master knew of him.

_'I'm inside your head dimwit,'_ the voice said, sounding exasperated. The telepath's eyes widened before her exhaled slowly.

"It was only a matter of time before I became unstable," he said softly to himself.

_'Wh-...you think you've gone insane?'_ The voice laughed. _'I am as real as your tail you little worm, whether you like it or not.' _

Narcian tilted his head as if trying to understand.

_'You are incompetant,'_ it sighed. Or rather, he. The voice did sound male now that he listened to it. _'That's right, Asmodiace is the name.' _

"Asmodiace..." Narcian whispered, trying the name which only made his tongue tingle. Then he shook his head. "You cannot have a name. A voice cannot exist without a body...Two beings cannot use the same body...it is impossible."

_'Just as hearing other peoples thoughts and seeing the future is impossible,'_ the voice called Asmodiace replied, the faintest hint of an aggitated growl in his voice. _'Now instead of just sitting here sulking why don't you eat before we waste away?'_

Narcian blinked, unable to find a reply. Shaking his head he just stared at the food Angra had brought in. "I am not hungry," he said softly before laying back down and closed his eyes. He could feel an aggitation inside him. As if it were anothers thoughts but deep in his skull. Slowly he began to drift back off to sleep, thanking Bast for this new quiet that surrounded him. But it was only partial silence, for he felt a stirring.

_'Liar,' _Asmo whispered.

* * *

Narcian was curled with his paper and pencil in the furthest corner from the door. It had been weeks but still his mind reeled. He came to the conclusion he was truly going insane, seeing as there was now a voice that would speak up every now and then, questioning about Angra and wondering why 'they' were kept alone. Though 'he' kept insisting he were real amd that 'his' name was Asmodiace. Shaking his head he leaned his aching head against the cool wall.

A young queen skittered through the lair corridors, keeping her appearence hidden from the other tom's. "I'm here to see the telepath." She spoke from under her cloak, keeping her head down. The tom on duty took her shoulder roughly and growled low. "Only the Lord and Angra may see him." She looked up at him from under her hood and her yellow eyes sparked fear into the guard. "I-I am sorry miss." She walked past him and waited for him to unlock the door, keeping herself concealed, mind and body.

The telepaths ears twitched as he heard the guards mind whispering and swirling as he unlocked the door. What now? There didn't appear to be anyone with him...Unless it was his Master. But he hardly ever came to Narcian, Angra always fetched the telepath if the Lord wanted to speak with him. Blinking he looked at his paper, feeling a vision creeping up on him. But he didn't fight it, he let himself sink into the vision. His glassy fogged eyes staring blankly at the half finished drawing, though his mind still wondered who was there before he fell completely into the trance.

Jestic entered the room, her tail brushing almost silently against the floor. "Leave us...and no disturbence." Her tone was soft but still commanding enough for the guard tom to leave without a fuss. "Narcian..." she said softly, keeping her mind clear. "It is Narcian isn't it? The little oricle" Her ears perked slightly as she knealt on the floor before the young telepath.

"Yes." He answered, voice subtly warped. But the vision ended quickly and he snapped back to reality. Eyes wide he pressed himself into the corner. This queen...Why would she be here? Speaking with him? He had never seen her before, surely his Master wouldn't have sent someone else. But then he listened, and noticed that her mind was clear, quiet. His eyes, though scared, searched for her face in the shadows of her hood. "What do you want with me?" He asked quietly, arms wrapped tightly around himself.

She lifted her head slightly, the glint of yellow subtle as she spoke. "I am not here to hurt you. If I were you know that I would have done so by now." Her smile was visable, though it held the slightest hint of venom. "I came to thank you." She lowered her head slightly in a form of respect to the telepath.

Narcian's ears twitched in confusion as he tried to search for an answer. "Th-thank me?" What has he done to warrent a thank you from this queen? The only two felines he knew were Angra and his Lord. "I do not understand." Though a shiver ran through him as he caught a scent that was different, yet in a subtle way familiar.'

She held out her paw to the small tom, her markings becoming visable. Shocks of red white and black over her arm in a precise pattern. "Take my paw... I have a gift for you." She said softly, allowing him into her mind, but only a little to show she would not harm him, willing him to trust her.

Narcian's eyes widened, the markings all to familiar. One of his Lords. But then why was she here speaking with him? Biting his lip he stared at her paw, fearing physical contact, but she did let him into her mind. With a quivering paw he took hers.

The queens breath shuddered into her, and her fingers burned with the contact. "T-there." She said softly, the transfer complete. "The noise...those thoughts. You'll have more control over them, but only for a while." She lifted her head and removed her hood. "It is the least I can do to thank you."

A shiver ran through him and his ears twitched madly, but his expression changed to one of shock as, this time, when he tried to tune the noise out it did quiet. Dull and faint. His ears relaxed as he looked up at her. "Thank you," he said. Even if it was for a little while, it was a peace he didn't have often, if ever. His eyes traveled over her face, understanding dawning. "She is yours isn't she." His voice was soft as he remembered the kit Angra had wanted him to find, a small cold wave reached down his spine but he shook it off.

"Yes she is mine." She said with a soft smile. "And you saved her." Her ears twitched and lowered sligthly, the pain finally dispelling. "I shouldn't be here, it took me weeks to break through to Angra, he wouldn't speak to me about it at all." Her ears lowered and she brushed her fingers through Narcians headfur. "I have so much to thenk you for. The life of my child, the life of my mate." She paused briefly, no-one was allowed to really know about her and Angra. "It is just this once you understand, I must follow in my fathers foosteps."

His ears twitched and he couldn't help the instant reaction to pulling away slightly from her touch. But his ears relaxed once more when he remembered the 'gift' she had given him was still in effect. He looked at her, eyes searching hers. But he nodded softly and looked down at his paws, "One must follow what one deems the right path," he said softly. "Even when one doesn't know where it takes them, if anywhere." His eyes travelled to the window and the faint few stars he could see, a sinking feeling deep in his chest

Jestic smiled a bit, lifting her head. "It is my birthright..." thank you again Narcian." She followed the young tom's gaze and took in the darkness in his eyes. "What is it?" She asked softly, placing her paw on his arm.

Narcian shook his head, "It is nothing Miss." He said looking down before making eyecontact. "It is just that my path does not exist. It is here, now, and will not change." With a small sigh he picked up his pencil and went back to his half finished sketch, the graphite lines messy and twining around one another. But four masses could be distinguished. One larger, the three smaller.

Her ears twitched and she turned to look at the door. The fear in her eyes grew and she threw her hood back up. "Take care young oracle." She tapped on the door and kept her head low. "Not a word..." she whispered as she left.

Turning he watched her sudden departure and nodded to himself. Not a word would be spoken, he knew that. Out of fear or kindness he didn't know. With a small sigh he curled onto his bed and willed himself to drift to sleep. The new quietness a blessed peace that he knew he should relish, for it wouldn't last long.


	4. Anguish

_Authors note: Sorry its a shorter chapter everyone!_

* * *

Narcian's routine slowly returned to how it had been. Little by little he began to accept Asmodiace, after all he had no one else to talk to even if it was only every now and then. Though the voice seemed to get more and more restless as time went on. The feelings stirring with the voice unnerved the telepath.

Shaking off the feeling once more he looked at the door as it opened to reveal Angra. The persian nodded slightly and Narcian stood, obediantly following him down the hall but staying as close to the wall as possible. Within a few moments they reached their destination: their Lords chambers.

Once inside Narcian bowed low, falling into the usual as he heard the Master speak with Angra. Only heard, he had his own orders he was listening to silently. Snaking their way through his mind his ears twitched just vaguelly until the image appeared. It was the queen who had visited him.

'What is she hiding..." The question slithered around his brain and his blood ran cold. He tried to think, he hadn't kept anything hidden from his Lord before. But just one subtle shift of his shoulders, a subconcious movement as his eyes slid from his paws just a little to one side...

And the Hidden Paw was on him.

With a crack his head collided with the wall, sending his vision spiralling. Blinking rapidly he tried to refocus while twisted claws snaked through his headfur, the other tightening on his throat until a strangled squeak escaped him. He couldn't move his head, all he could do was stare into those horrifying furious yellow eyes. With wide eyes his paws clutched the ginger arm, but he was far to weak.

"You dare disobey me?" He snarled at the telepath.

He felt the claws digging into his scalp, a warm sensasion as blood oozed down the back of his head. Yet all his mind screamed was air. Breathe. But he couldn't. Held a couple feet off the ground, his legs were useless in his struggle to break free. His vision faultered, growing fuzzy as his mind tried to grasp reality.

Still he saw those eyes glaring into his. He was slipping...slipping into darkness...Then the agony hit.

Screaming his eyes clenched tight as he thrashed with new desperation. His claws tore at the ginger fur at Macavitys' wrist, trying to break free. The Hidden Paw just snarled and threw him to the floor, his mind never faultering from the agonizing pain he was forcing through the telepaths head.

There was a horrible echo, a replying scream only heard by Narcian. Within him something coiled and tried to escape the torture. The yellow harlequin writhed on the floor, claws sinking into his scalp as he screamed until he couldn't.

With a slash of his claws Macavity sent Narcian rolling, adding physical to the mental pain, but only for that brief moment. The young oracle struggled weakly to his knees, the gashes upon his back bled slowly, staining white and gold fur. But it did not hurt. He felt nothing physically. Not the burn of torn flesh, the warmth as the blood trickled down. Nothing. Nothing but the roar and scream within his head. There were no coherent words, just pain. Agony.

A fiery monster that wrapped around his mind. An acidic snake that coiled and crushed. Squeezing the lifeout of him, the very sanity from his brain. It was too much. Far to much. He couldn't move. Couldn't think. His mouth opened in a silent scream as tears ran down his cheeks, mingling with scarlet drops. The red was the only sign of the internal war. It leaked from his nose, mouth and ears. As if it were his very life essence seeping away.

But no...He would not die. He would not know that sweet peaceful release. Never see that darkness that others who disobey the Master disappear into. No...He was much to 'valuable'. Only this awaited. This agony...Nothing else...Never anything else...

* * *

He didn't know how he had gotten back to his room, nor did he care. Narcian just laid on his bed, to weak to move and covered in dried blood. Even Asmodiace was quiet and unmoving. The telepaths eyes were glazed as he stared at nothing, thanking bast for this silence he was filled with. And yet...He wanted nothing more than to just close his eyes and fall into a sleep he wouldn't wake from.

_'Why sleep?'_ The voice whispered hoarsly, causing Narcian to wince. Even Asmo seemed to squirm as the migrane roared against the sudden break in silence. The telepath groaned softly and closed his eyes tight.

"There is no other escape..." He replied softly, voice creaking. The only thing he hoped for was that no visions would come tonight. He didn't know if he could handle that, his mind was already torn to shreds.

_'There is...'_ Asmo replied weakly.

Narcian's heart skipped a beat. There was? He could feel the voice inside him move as if he were nodding.

_'I...can help.'_ He said.

"You are just...a voice. What can you do?" The young oracle was confused and it hurt his head more.

_'As I have said...' _Asmodiace replied even softer. _'I am real. I am your counterpart.' _

"Counterpart..." Narcian repeated, trying to understand but he was so tired. His mind exhausted from so much.

_'Yes...But we are both...to weak.'_ He sighed._ 'In time...You'll see.'_

Narcian sighed and closed his eyes, nodding ever so slightly as sleep took over.


End file.
